It is certain that
he regarded the ancient land of the Caesars as a possible El Dorado;
and, curiously enough, he came back this time, if not with Sindbad's
diamonds, yet with some prospect of becoming a Silver King. Throughout
the remainder of the twelvemonth, a plan, connected with this
prospect, was simmering in his head, a plan which, we shall see, was
less chimerical than most of those that he concocted.
While he was at Milan, the Italian sculptor Puttinati modelled his
bust, which pleased him so much that he gave him a order for a group
representing _Seraphita_ showing the path heavenward to Wilfrid and
Minna. At Venice, he began _Massimilla Doni_, one of his philosophic
novels, in which the love episode is interwoven with mysticism and
music, and Rossini's _Mose_ is analysed with skill. His best
production of the year was _Cesar Birotteau_. The subject he had borne
in his mind for a long while, but had feared to start on it on account
of the difficulty of treating it imaginatively. At last, tempted by an
offer of twenty thousand francs if he would complete it by a fixed
date, he sat down to the task and wrote the novel in three weeks.
The _Grandeur_ (or _Rise_) _and Fall of Cesar Birotteau_, to give the
book its fuller title, has neither plot nor progress of love-passion.
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